


Showers

by Fenix21



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Frottage, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Series, Showers, caretaker!sam, curtain fic-kind of?, hurt!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 18:08:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6715714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fenix21/pseuds/Fenix21
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's a little busted up, and Sam thinks he might have a a better solution than <em>just</em> hot water.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Showers

**Author's Note:**

> So, my nasty cold is on its way out the door. Yay! I'm sure Dean will be glad of that.
> 
> This little nugget came from me watching _Safe House_ last night and the moment when Dean hops out of the grave and leaves Sam to dig the rest and they have that little chat about going out in a blaze of glory 'preferably while the song is playing.' I wondered if Sam ever thought about his brother being older than him, and what changes that might eventually lead to, because Dean isn't going to last forever after everything he's put his body through.

Sam leaned in the door of the bathroom and watched the thick steam roll over the top of the shower curtain. At this rate, Dean was going to use up the motel's entire supply of hot water, but Sam really couldn't begrudge him that after the toss he'd taken from that poltergeist. It was rare Dean hurt bad enough that he said anything about it, rarer still that he asked someone else to actually make a concession for him because of it, but this morning he'd asked Sam to drive and this afternoon only an hour after they'd stopped for lunch he'd asked Sam to find the nearest hotel with decent water pressure and a bottomless hot water tank.

The thing Sam often forgot these days was that Dean was older. Age had stopped separating them in Sam's early teens when he started going on hunts with Dad and Dean and they were both able to accomplish the same physical tasks. Sam stopped thinking of his brother as distinctly older at that point, most of the time, because Dean started treating him more as an equal and a little less like the kid brother he had to constantly keep an eye on. And sure, four years didn't seem like much at their age, but Dean had turned forty this last January and a hunter's forty with all the damage he'd taken over the years was equivalent to anyone else's sixty or seventy. 

A low moan came from behind the curtain over the sound of the shower spray beating on bare skin. (Dean had nearly squealed like a teenage girl when he'd seen the massage jet shower head, and Sam had hidden his grin behind his hand because he'd thought he remembered this particular motel chain having those particular shower heads, and he was inordinately pleased with his brother's reaction.) The sound wasn't one of pain. It was more of general discomfort and the ache of bruised and knotted muscles releasing under the therapy of the harsh, hot spray. Sam was well acquainted with nearly every sound Dean could make and this one wasn't one he necessarily needed to be concerned about except that it was his fault, again, that Dean had to make it. 

Even though Sam had come to think of them as the same age in pretty much every way that mattered, Dean had not. He would tell Sam all day long that he wasn't a kid anymore, and Dean wasn't going to chase after him and wipe his nose and kiss his boo-boos and make his decisions for him anymore—and he didn't—but buried deep in Dean's psyche, down to the roots of his soul in fact, there was a need to look after Sam. Dean's life had been defined by that need, first by John's edict, and then by Dean's own choice. It was nothing Sam would ever be able to change, nothing he wanted to change. But it made Dean do things that Sam would just as soon he didn't, like throw himself in the direct path of a truly pissed off poltergeist. Dean wasn't even aware he did it. It was so ingrained in him to get between Sam and anything that would hurt him, that it was probably etched into his genetic code by now. 

Another moan came from behind the curtain, and this one was a shade more on the side of actual pain. Sam shifted off the door frame and came to the curtain.

'You all right, Dean?'

For a second there was the sound of gritting teeth, and then a clipped, 'Yeah. Fine. Good.'

'Right,' Sam mumbled. He pulled the curtain back enough to peer in and see Dean leaning under the spray, arms braced against the tiles in front of him, his back a mottled, garish mess of red and blue and deep purple bruises. 'Christ, Dean…'

Sam had seen the damage yesterday right after it happened, had checked his brother thoroughly for broken or bruised ribs, concussion, or any obvious spinal injuries, but he hadn't seen it since then. The painful evidence of just how bad Dean's injuries were made him cringe in sympathy.

'I'm fine, Sammy.' Dean said, and dipped his head to peer under his arm at Sam. 'Now, close the damn curtain. You're lettin' in the cold air.'

Sam rolled his eyes, whipped the curtain closed, and reached for the snap on his jeans. He'd already shed everything else in the bedroom with the intentions of coming in and at least catching the tail end of the hot water. He let his jeans slide to the floor, stepped out of them and into the tub before Dean could protest. He reached for Dean's wrists, pulled them off the wall, and turned his brother toward him.

'Sam, what the—'

'Just. Relax,' Sam said as he pulled Dean's hands up behind his neck and then reached around his waist, which was blessedly mostly bruise free, and snugged Dean up against him. It put him in a better position under the water, letting it cover more of his bruised and aching back, and he didn't have to support himself with Sam holding him up. Sam reached to twitch the shower head a fraction lower and twisted it over to a pulsing spray. Dean groaned, this one closer to all out pleasure, and let Sam take his weight.

'Better?' Sam asked into the shell of Dean's ear.

'Mmmm,' was Dean's only response as he settled heavier in Sam's embrace and dropped his head to rest in the curve of Sam's neck.

Sam kept his grip gentle, but firm, and worked his thumbs in circles into the muscles of Dean's lower back on either side of his tailbone and over his hipbones. Even though there were no bruises, Sam was sure he was sore. Dean's mangled back and knees were a case for the medical books, and whether or not he complained about it, ever, Sam knew he was in pain most of the time these days. 

Dean shifted a little, and Sam spread his legs to accommodate his brother moving in closer. Dean dropped his hands from behind Sam's neck and looped them around his waist. Sam moved his hands lower, gripping the backs of Dean's thighs under his buttocks to support his weight better. He felt his cock fill a little at the closeness, Dean's too as it lifted against his inner thigh, but neither of them made a move for more. Dean just kind of hung, limp and sated, in Sam's arms, and Sam dipped his head to brush his mouth along Dean's hairline, slow and gentle, not even kissing, just a warm press and drag of skin against skin. Dean murmured something wordless and nosed at Sam's collarbone.

Sam scooted them a step toward the spray, focusing the pounding water up on Dean's right shoulder where he'd hit the eight foot tall oak and glass curio the hardest. Dean breathed out long and slow, and Sam felt the ripple of his muscles tensing in pain and then relaxing under the concentrated heat. Dean turned his head, moving his face away from the spray, and Sam settled his chin on top of his brother's wet, spiky hair. Dean rocked his hips a little, and Sam smiled, reached down between them to pull their half-hard cocks up between the warmth of their pressed together bellies, and then reaffirmed his hold on Dean's thighs. Dean rocked again, just a little, nothing more than a bit of feel good friction. Sam scooped his pelvis forward, allowing Dean a little more pressure to rub himself against. Dean let out a satisfied moan and settled into a slow, easy rocking rhythm. 

Sam felt himself swell as Dean rubbed against him, but it still wasn't a driving need, nothing in it that made him want to open his brother up on his cock and fuck him senseless. No, this was sweet and somehow comforting, Dean moving so languid and lazy against him, nothing fiery or demanding in the undulation of his body against Sam's. Somehow that made it all the hotter, though, and Sam tugged Dean just a little closer.

'You keep that up…' he said in a low, husky drawl.

'Yeah,' Dean breathed into his shoulder and put a little more pressure behind the rocking of his hips. Nothing forceful, just a lingering push at the apex of the roll where Sam could feel Dean's cock pressed, now long and hard, between their bellies, sliding against his own.

'Dean, I…' Sam's hands crept up to Dean's buttocks, gripping and molding the hard muscle there into the shape of his huge palms. Dean's hands had already set up a cat like kneading into Sam's back muscles in time with the rock and roll of his hips. 'Dean…'

Sam was starting to leak in earnest, his balls tingling and clenching, an urgent heat finally starting to pool deep in his belly. Dean hiked himself a little higher against Sam's chest and reached to whisper in his ear,

'Come for me, babe.'

It was all Sam needed, just those few softly spoken words, and his whole body locked for a slow count of five as he pulsed out his orgasm between them, felt Dean's cock twitching and pulsing in time with his own, his breath hot and a little raspy against Sam's throat. 

They hung off each other under the now rapidly cooling water, catching their breath, shivering a little in the aftermath.

'Not my plan,' Sam said finally, smiling despite it, then pulling a frown of concern. 'Probably didn't do your back any good.'

Dean grinned, slow and easy, a little sleepy around the edges. 'You'd be surprised. Endorphins are wonderful little buggers.'

Sam laughed softly and reached to knock the faucet all the way over to 'hot.' They rinsed off, Dean still leaning heavily into Sam, and shut off the water and toweled dry. Dean didn't even bother with boxers or sweats, just went into the room, peeled back the covers and face planted on the bed. Sam couldn't help smiling at the long, expanse of pale, freckled skin, even marred as it was now, covering muscle sculpted by time and experience, and thinking how beautiful his brother was like this. 

'Dinner?' Sam asked as he finished towel drying his hair.

'Mmm,' Dean moaned into the pillow. 'Too tired.'

Sam just smiled bigger and moved over to the bed, slid down between the sheets beside his brother and pulled the covers up. He settled himself and then reached an arm around Dean's waist and pulled him in close. Dean protested against the change in position with a mumbled grunt, but it didn't last as he curled and slotted himself against Sam's chest and belly and thighs like he'd been made to fit there. He grumbled something about being the little spoon.

'Your back will feel better in the morning this way,' Sam said because he knew if Dean had a good reason for being nestled up against his little brother's bigger, broader, warmer body, he'd settle right down into it. Sam kissed him softly behind his ear and down the stubbled line of his jaw and tucked him in tighter. Dean's mouth curved in a sleepy smile, and he burrowed back further into Sam's warmth.

Sam closed his eyes against the dying afternoon light that washed the room in dark golds and slept deep and easy in the knowledge that there may not be a way to keep Dean from putting himself in harm's way for his little brother's sake, but at least Sam would always be here to ease the pain afterward. 

What he didn't know, as he drifted off and Dean laced their hands together tightly over his heart, was that the reason Dean was able to do what he did, was because the payoff of Sammy wrapped warm and safe and happy all around him at the end of the day? That was worth anything the monsters could throw his way. 

 


End file.
